


See the Light Surrounding You

by TheFreakWithTheWings



Series: Chains of Light and Shackles of Night [1]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Animal Transformation, Female Orc - Freeform, Hobbits are secret unicorns, M/M, Unicorn Bilbo, Unicorns, cause we never seem to see any female orcs in the movies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-01
Updated: 2016-10-15
Packaged: 2018-02-07 00:41:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 20,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1878501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFreakWithTheWings/pseuds/TheFreakWithTheWings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Unicorns had disappeared from Arda so long ago that few regarded them as anything more than a myth. No one is quite certain where hobbits originated from. This is not a coincidence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Gurg had always worked hard to be the best orc she could be. She barely ever forgot to brush her warg before going into battle, and she always made sure her blades were sharp. Whenever she thought of dwarves, men, or elves, she felt a deep and bitter hatred. She was prepared to die if her leader asked. She only feared one thing: hobbits.

****

When Gurg had been just a little orcling, her mother (may she burn for all eternity) had told her stories of hobbits. She had described them to have the pointed ears of the filthy elves, to be shorter than any wretched dwarf, and to have feet larger than any man, even though they wore no shoes. She had also told her that a single hobbit could, if they wanted to, kill more orcs than any army. And that was if they felt merciful. If they didn’t, her mother had told her, they could do even worse things. At that point, Gurg had asked what they could do, but her mother had sworn never to speak of it because it was so terrible.

 

Gurg had hoped to live her entire life without seeing a hobbit, and so, when Azog had ordered them to hunt down the group of dwarves led by Thorin Oakenshield, she had hoped that it was just a trick of the light that had made one of the Company seem smaller than the rest. It was bad enough that there was a wizard in the group; if there was a hobbit present Gurg was going to run away. She would rather be captured by elves than face a hobbit. 

 

So, when a small figure leapt from the fallen tree and killed Narz, Gurg had turned her warg around and fled.

 

“Run for your lives!” she shouted in Black Speech. “They have a hobbit! Run!”

  
She didn’t bother looking back. If those fools wanted to mess with a hobbit, they could feel free to. **  
**


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Unreliable narrator in the second part.

One of the strongest instincts that hobbits had was to never kill a sentient being. Even if it was self-defense, there were severe consequences for murder. No one was quite sure what it was, but not even the most desperate of hobbits would take a life to save themselves.

 

The only thing that could make a hobbit go against that instinct was if a member of their family was in fatal danger.

 

Yet Bilbo had killed for Thorin, who thought of him as nothing more than a burden, who thought Bilbo should return home. Well, Bilbo thought as he stood in front of Thorin’s prone body, he would likely never go home anyways after this, so what were one or two more kills to add to his body count.

 

Strangely, a few of the orcs broke away, running not as if they were going to get reinforcements but as if they were fleeing a terrible foe. Azog ignored them though, and more orcs approached him. Bilbo thought for sure that he was about to join his parents in Yavanna’s Garden when other members of the Company joined the fray.

 

Then Bilbo was snatched up and deposited on an Eagle’s back. He was too worried about Thorin’s state of being to worry about falling or  remember that he had killed some being, and that there would likely be hell to pay for it.

 

-‹◊›-

 

Bilbo didn’t even realize that something was wrong until they were at the bottom of the Carrock. Sure, he had felt a little feverish while they were looking at Erebor, but he had assumed that it was the result of finally being accepted. Now, though, he knew there was something wrong.

 

There were two Thorins.

 

Not that that was a bad thing. Bilbo could think of a lot of reasons why having two of Thorin would be a good thing. For one, it would be a lot harder for Azog to kill him if there were two of him.

 

Maybe one of the Thorins wasn’t real. Bilbo reached out and poked one of them just to be sure.

 

His finger met fur, so that was a point in the there-are-now-two-Thorins column.

 

Both Thorins turned around to give him an odd look.

 

Suddenly, Bofur was there, and there were two of him too. In fact, now that Bilbo was looking, he could see two of every member of the Company. Except Gandalf, there were three of him. That was probably because he was a wizard, Bilbo decided.

 

Gandalf was probably the one behind all of the duplicates. Bilbo couldn’t fathom why Gandalf would want to double the entire Company, but he was a wizard. They did magic…. things, and left for mysterious reasons in the middle of adventures.

 

Bofur’s hat was very mysterious, what with its gravity-defying ways. Maybe it was magic too. Bilbo’s eyes widened. Maybe it was evil.

 

Why was he staring at the sky, Bilbo wondered. Weren’t they supposed to be walking somewhere?

 

He could hear Thorin speaking, but he couldn’t quite make out the words. That was okay though. Thorin had such a majestic voice that Bilbo was content to just listen to it. Thorin was just majestic in general. If Majesty was a person, Bilbo decided, it would definitely be Thorin.

 

Bofur would be Happiness. Fíli and Kíli would be Mischief and Trouble. He wasn’t sure which was which, but he knew that they were probably getting into some sort of mischief or trouble. Like with the trolls.

 

Still, the trolls hadn’t been as bad as that Gollum creature. At least when he was facing the trolls, he had Thorin and the Company at his back. Gollum had been the one with the advantage, what with his knowledge of the tunnels and his creepy precious.

 

Bilbo could understand why Gollum had called the ring his precious. After all, it made people invisible. It was obviously very special. He was glad he had put it in his pocket for safe keeping.

 

And yet, he could feel something evil emanating from that same pocket. If he were to rate the evil on a scale of one to ten, with one being the Sackville-Baggins and ten being a dragon, the evil he could feel was an eleven. He would probably have to burn his waistcoat to get rid of it. Maybe he should do that right now.

 

So, Bilbo took of his outermost layers. Then, he noticed that it was very hot out, much hotter than it had been earlier. Maybe he should just take off all of his clothes.

 

Something was holding down his arms though. Bilbo looked up and saw his cousin, Otho Sackville-Baggins.

 

“Otho!” he said. “I was just thinking about you.”

 

Otho frowned. “Bilbo, why are you trying to go swimming?”

 

Bilbo sighed. Otho just didn’t understand. “It’s too hot out to do anything, so I decided to go for a dip.”

 

“But Bilbo, Fortinbras told me you couldn’t swim.” Otho said.

 

“Well, Fortinbras is a filthy liar.” Bilbo declared.

 

“I’m not entirely sure I trust your judgment Bilbo.” Otho said slowly.

 

“You married that crazy Lobelia Bracegirdle. If anyone’s judgment should be called into question, it’s yours.” Bilbo said.

 

Otho raised his hands above his head. “Fine, fine. Go swimming. Drown for all I care.”

 

Bilbo just smiled at his cousin before he dove forward into the pool of water that had appeared to his left. He sank down into the cool peaceful water.

  
It was only once he hit the bottom that he remembered that he couldn’t, in fact, swim, and that he was going to drown. The water, which had once seemed peaceful and inviting, now seemed as if it was a sinister trap dragging him down deeper and deeper until he sank like a stone into blackness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hallucinating Bilbo was sooo much fun to write. I kept trying to write to the end of the chapter, but then he would go "no. I need to take my clothes off and go swimming." and I just held on for the ride. Next chapter, Thorin's point of view!


	3. Chapter 2

Thorin had been more than a little surprised when Mr. Baggins had poked him in the shoulder. He had turned around to ask the hobbit what he was doing only for the burglar to give him a dopey smile and mutter something about majesticness. Thorin had been a little confused, but he had thought nothing of it until Mr. Baggins started pulling off his clothes with a wild-eyed look of fright on his face. By then it was obvious that the hobbit wasn't in his right mind, so Thorin grabbed his arms to restrain him before he managed to pull off his pants. When he returned to normal Mr. Baggins would be mortified enough that he had taken off his shirt, and while it would be almost endearing to see him turn bright red, Thorin would prefer to have a burglar that would still speak with him rather than one that had died of embarrassment.

 

So, he resolutely ignored the small voice that noted how soft Bilbo's skin was while the hobbit spoke sternly to someone named Otho because he could feel that Mr. Baggins had a much higher temperature than he should. Had his burglar caught some sort of disease in the goblin tunnels? Thorin immediately felt guilty because he had hugged Bilbo and not even noticed that he was ill. He had been so caught up in the sight of Erebor that he had ignored Mr. Baggins' needs right after he had fully accepted him into the Company.

 

It was only when Bilbo passed out that Thorin was pulled out of his guilt.

 

"Óin!" he shouted. "Our burglar is ill!"

 

Thorin could see a mixture of guilt and worry on the faces of every member of the Company. Every member except Gandalf. The wizard had sat down on a stump a little ways apart from the rest of the group, and the expression on his face was one of a person who has seen an inevitable, terrible event about to occur.

 

"What do you know?" Thorin demanded as he stalked over to where the wizard had sat, suddenly furious. "What do you know about Mr. Baggins' illness?"

 

Gandalf pulled out his pipe and lit it before speaking "You probably don't know that I was good friends with Bilbo's mother, Belladonna Took."

 

Thorin raised an expectant brow, but, for once, he chose to remain silent and let the wizard speak.

 

"We went on many adventures together, Belladonna and I. She had an unquenchable desire to see as much of the world outside of the Shire as she could." Gandalf paused to puff on his pipe. "On one of our adventures, we ran into a pack of goblins. It was a small group, easily defeated, but Belladonna refused to kill even one of them. Now that doesn't mean she didn't know how; she was quite proficient with a weapon." Gandalf paused again, considering. "I believe her weapon of choice was a number of small knives. Anyways, I asked her why she hadn't killed any of the goblins, and she told me that no hobbit would kill a thinking being to save their own life. There were consequences, she told me, but no hobbit had murdered in such a long time that they had no idea what they might be."

 

Thorin frowned, remembering what he had seen after being gnawed on by the white warg. "And yet Bilbo killed an orc."

 

Gandalf nodded. "I was told that a hobbit would only be able to overcome that instinct if a family member or someone else close to them was in fatal danger."

 

Thorin sat down abruptly as he was swamped with crippling guilt. Bilbo's illness was entirely his fault. He just had to recklessly confront Azog and put himself in harm's way.

 

He stared bleakly at the ground as he asked the wizard "Is there anything we can do?"

 

"There is nothing we can do but wait." he replied, defeat clearly audible in his voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was the angstiest thing I have ever written. I blame Thorin. He's such an angsty little muffin.  
> And don't worry readers, this story won't be sad for long. Next chapter we will return to the usual tone (again, blame Thorin).


	4. Chapter 3

Bilbo awoke to the feeling of gentle hands running through his hair. He opened his eyes to an endless blue sky, birdsong drifting through the air, the light fragrance of apple blossoms wafting past him, and the tickling of numerous blades of grass on his cheek. For a moment, Bilbo thought he was in the Shire, enjoying a beautiful spring day. There was something that he was forgetting, but he decided to ignore it in favor of the warmth of the sun and the comforting tug of hands in his hair.

The last person to run their hands through his hair had been his mother, and she had been dead for more than two decades.

Bilbo sat up quickly, contentment gone at the thought of his late mother, and spun to face the mysterious person.

Belladonna Baggins, her face free from the wrinkles that age and his father's death had carved into her face, smiled at her son.

Had all that time since the Fell Winter been nothing but a bad dream? If he peered back behind her, would he see his father sitting on a bench and blowing smoke rings?

But no. The garden he was in looked like no part of the Shire he had ever seen, and thanks to his adventurous youth he had seen quite a bit of it. Also, he was fairly sure that some of the plants would never have grown naturally in the Shire.

"Where are we?" he asked warily.

Belladonna’s  - or the thing that had taken her face, and wasn’t that a scary thought - smile became sad. “This is the Garden of Yavanna.”

Bilbo slumped. “So I am dead then.”

“Maybe,” said his mother. “It really depends on what you choose. Before you make any decisions though, let me tell you a story.

Belladonna reached out and placed her hand on his shoulder, tugging him into her side. Bilbo had loved his mother’s tales as a fauntling, and they had been a large factor in his decision to become the Company’s burglar.

“Long before hobbits appeared in Arda there lived the unicorns. Winged horses the size of dogs with spiralling horns growing out of their foreheads, the unicorns were a powerful force for good. However, the forces of evil began to actively hunt down the unicorns until there were barely any left. The few remaining unicorns gathered together and cast a great spell in order to hide from the enemy. They turned themselves into hobbits. As time went on, we forgot our origins, believing instead that we were the distant cousins of men. However, those long ago ancestors of ours included an emergency reversal for the enchantment: if a hobbit ever had to slay some being in defense, then they would be able to become a unicorn again.”

Bilbo pulled away and stared at his mother in frank disbelief. “You don’t actually believe that story, do you?”

Belladonna grinned and then transformed into a small, white winged horse with a pearly spiralled horn growing out of her forehead.

Bilbo stared at her in shock. Before he had started out on Thorin’s quest he would have fainted, much like he had at Bofur’s description of Smaug. Instead he simply sat and stared.

His mother turned back into her regular self and sat down next to him.

“You get to choose to go back with your full potential unlocked or you can stay here, as if you had actually died.” she said.

More than almost anything, Bilbo wanted to stay. He had no wife or immediate family waiting for him back in the Shire, and he knew that his friends would be fine without him, otherwise he wouldn’t have gone racing after Thorin. And the other dwarves of course. If he had been offered this choice before his trials in the goblin tunnels, he would have probably said yes, but he couldn’t leave his dwarven friends behind now. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he abandoned them, not after he had promised to help them regain their home.

There wasn’t really any choice at all.


	5. Chapter 4

This time, when Bilbo woke up, it was to the familiar sight of Fíli and Kíli conspiring together. He was only able to catch snippets of their conversation, but it was enough to make him worried.

“Mother always said . . . women.”

“Gross, Fíli, I didn’t . . . Uncle Thorin.”

“I think he’s . . . the burglar.”

“But Bilbo . . . at any time.”

“Exactly, so Uncle . . . as soon . . . up.”

Bilbo sat up with a sigh, feeling better than he had in decades. The aches in his bones, the soreness in his muscles, all the little signs of age had vanished.

Fíli and Kíli were staring at him, wide-eyed.

“Mr. Baggins, glad to see you up and about,” Fíli said. “We were all very worried when you collapsed.”

“Especially Uncle Thorin.” Kíli said.

Fíli elbowed him in the side, smiling widely at Bilbo.

“I’m sorry for worrying you. It was just all the, um, flying, you see. Hobbits were meant to keep their feet on the ground.” Bilbo explained, thinking up a plausible reason for his collapse on the spot.

"Right. Well," Fíli paused, reaching behind him. "Here are your clothes."

Bilbo stared in horror at the bundle in Fíli's arms then down at himself. How long had he been naked? And why were they only telling him now?

Bilbo's cheeks colored as he covered himself with one hand and snatched his clothes back from Fíli with the other, muttering "Insufferable dwarves."

He stalked off into the woods with his clothes held protectively in front of him, ignoring the snickers that broke out behind him.

\----

When Bilbo returned to the clearing, Thorin was busy yelling at his nephews. Bilbo didn't hear the beginning of Thorin's tirade, but he caught enough of the end of it to know that it was about him.

".... you let him go off on his own! Have you forgotten that we are being hunted by orcs? There could be any manner of danger out there, and you let him-"

"I didn't really give them much of a choice Thorin," Bilbo said, interrupting. Thorin froze and turned towards Bilbo. "And anyways, I have more than proven that I can handle myself."

"Don't wander off alone," Thorin commanded. "It would be a shame to lose you after we just got you back. You are truly alright though?"

Bilbo smiled briefly. Who knew dwarves were such worrywarts? "I'm fine Thorin. No need to worry."

For a moment, Bilbo was tempted to reveal his newfound status as a unicorn, but, for the first time in his life, Bilbo had something that made him special, and he was reluctant to share it just yet. Besides, he didn't want to make a scene, and a sudden transformation from hobbit into a unicorn would definitely make a scene.

It wasn't like with the ring he has found, when he had been hurt by Thorin's accusations and desperate to prove his own merit but also wanting to keep the precious treasure to himself. He just didn't want to disappoint them. Also, if the other hobbits learned about this they might not want their secret known, especially if it could put them in danger.

A sudden, terrible image of hobbits being forced to kill, to murder so that the other races could take advantage of their transformation flashed through his mind and solidified his decision to keep his secret from the Company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Just to clarify, Bilbo’s fragmented and confusing thought process is on purpose. He just went through an emotional rollercoaster, and I was trying to get his thinking process to resemble that.


	6. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to warn you guys, this chapter hasn't been beta read at all. I figured you guys would prefer to read it now than wait another week. Also, I am mixing in some elements of the book. For example, Beorn's nickname for Bilbo, the longer stay at Beorn's house, the fact that the White Council is very much aware that the Necromancer in Dol Goldur (I think that's how it's spelled) is actually Sauron, just weak.
> 
> EDIT 8/8/15: My good friend Theatre-Ghost has made some some fan art for this fic. http://theatre-ghost.deviantart.com/art/Unicorn-Bilbo-Commission-529151442  
> Go check it out and give her some love

“Not that this isn’t cute, but we really do need to get going,” Balin said.

“Aye, Thorin,” Dwalin interjected. “Have ya forgotten the orcs and wargs on our tails?”

Thorin turned away from Bilbo to glare at them, but a warg howl interrupted whatever it was he had been about to say.

Someone tapped on Bilbo’s shoulder while the rest of the dwarves scrambled for their packs.

“Excuse me, Mr. Baggins, but I believe you dropped this earlier,” Ori said when Bilbo turned to him, holding out his hand.

When Bilbo saw what was resting in Ori’s hand, he had to fight the urge to vomit or cower behind Thorin while crying, or both. It was Gollum’s ring, but it was also so evil. He could almost see the corruption spreading from it, tainting everything it touched if left alone for long enough.

Bilbo need to get the ring away from Ori before it could do any damage more than he wanted to hide from its evil, so he forced a smile and took the ring from the dwarf.

“Oh, right, thank you Ori,” he said as he stuffed the ring into a pocket, mentally cringing. He made a note to himself to talk to Gandalf about the ring once they weren’t on the run from orcs.

Everyone was soon packed up and ready to go, and so they took off, Gandalf in the lead. Apparently he knew someone that could help them hide from their pursuers.

\---

The bear shifter was a frightening surprise, but once he welcomed the Company into his home he became much less fearsome. In truth, Bilbo was intrigued. According to his mother, he would be able to change back and forth from unicorn form to hobbit form with ease. A little help figuring out how to change wouldn’t be amiss though. He was a little afraid of getting stuck halfway, not fully unicorn and not fully hobbit.

Before he sought out Beorn though, Bilbo needed to talk to Gandalf.

His opportunity arrived on the third day of their stay at Beorn’s. Gandalf had retreated to a bench and was smoking on his pipe, blowing rings occasionally. Bilbo hopped up onto the bench next to the wizard, his feet dangling several inches off the ground. They sat in silence for a while, one enjoying the beautiful day and the other figuring out what to say without giving away his secret.

“My courage wasn’t the only thing I found in the mountains,” Bilbo finally said, staring at one of the huge bumblebees rather than meeting Gandalf’s eyes.

“Oh?” was all Gandalf said.

“There was this...creature, and he had a ring that turned him invisible, only I found it after I fell. I managed to trick the creature into leading me out, but he wanted to eat me so I was invisible. That’s why no one noticed my approach earlier. I thought it was just an enchanted ring, but I have this feeling that it might be more than that, that it might be evil,” Bilbo explained, words falling from his mouth almost of their own volition.

Gandalf frowned thoughtfully. “Might I see this ring?”

Bilbo hurriedly dug the ring out of his pocket and dropped it into Gandalf’s hand, barely resisting the urge to wipe his hands off on his pants.

The wizard stared down at the ring, his frown deepening, while Bilbo watched in silence.

Finally, Gandalf turned back to Bilbo and held out the ring. “While I do believe you are right about its true nature, for now I feel as if you are the best person to guard this ring, especially if my suspicions are true.”

Bilbo gritted his teeth and took the ring back from Gandalf, shuddering at the evil he could feel from it.

“What do you suspect?” he asked.

“It is best that I keep my suspicions to myself for now; I wouldn’t want to needlessly worry you should they prove false. Still, I advise against showing that ring to anyone else, and it would be better if you didn’t use it,” Gandalf said.

“Of course,” Bilbo replied.

He pushed himself off the bench, not entirely happy with the conversation but glad to see that the evil of the ring concerned someone other than himself. By the Valar, if Ori had kept the ring. Bilbo shuddered, trying not to picture the young dwarf corrupted by the evil of the ring.

Yes, Gandalf was right. It was better that he kept it, for he at least could feel its evil, while the dwarves could not. They would be completely clueless if the ring did begin to corrupt them, and Bilbo had no desire to witness such a horror.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully the next chapter won't take so long. And Bilbo and Beorn can have a conversation about shapeshifting. A wild jealous!Thorin may even make an appearance. Who knows?
> 
> Also, would anyone be interested in reading a Hobbit/How To Train Your Dragon fusion? With Bilbo as Hiccup and Thorin as Toothless?


	7. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good news: I have now made this fic my priority. I have 24 chapters planned out for this fic right now, although it was 23 earlier in the week, so it might be a little longer. I've written through chapter 9, and I plan on updating once a week. Once I completely finish writing, I will probably update twice a week. Also, I've made some changes- well, one change really- to the first chapter, but it isn't that relevant to this story. The sequel, on the other hand...

After speaking with Gandalf, Bilbo set out to find Beorn and finally have the conversation about shapeshifting. He found the skin-changer out in his fields, surrounded by his horses. It was a beautiful day, bright and warm, and Beorn was taking advantage of that to brush the horses.

The horses noticed his presence first.

“The small one is here,” one of the horses said.

Bilbo had been able to hear what Beorn’s animals had been saying from the moment they arrived, but it was clear that none of the others had been able to do it, so he kept quiet.

Beorn stood up, looming over the hobbit.

“You need something?” he asked.

“Yes, um, actually I was hoping to speak with you about skin-changing,” Bilbo said.

“No. Go away.” Beorn turned back to his horses.

“I can hear what your animals are saying,” Bilbo said hurriedly. “And I was told that I have another shape, but I don’t know how to change into it.”

Beorn glanced over at him and laughed. “What are you, a little bunny?”

Bilbo blushed. “No, a pony actually.” He figured that a small lie wouldn’t hurt too much, and the skin-changer might think that he was lying if he said unicorn.

“Hmm.” Beorn set down his brush and patted the grass next to him. Taking the gesture as an invitation, Bilbo sat on the grass next to him. The skin-changer stared off into nothing for a long while, thinking. Finally, he said “You do not change your skin. If you changed it, that would mean that you are two different things stuck in one body. I am not a man and a bear stuck in one body. I am a person who sometimes is a man and sometimes is a bear. That is all there is to it. You are not a hobbit and a pony; you are neither and you are both. That is the best way I know to explain it.”

Beorn’s explanation was very confusing, but Bilbo just nodded along as if he understood. It was the most he had heard the man say in the three days that the Company had stayed at his house, and he was a little surprised.

“Thank you,” Bilbo said.

“Are you going to try to be a pony now?” Beorn asked.

“No, no. The dwarves don’t know about me, and I wouldn’t want to get stuck,” Bilbo explained, staring at the ground. He also didn’t want to turn into a unicorn in front of Beorn. As soon as he could sneak away, he would try to change his shape.

Beorn laughed. “It is just as well; you are leaving tomorrow anyway.”

0o0o0

The Company was ready to leave Beorn’s house by midmorning the next day. The skin-changer had allowed them to ride on his ponies until Mirkwood, and he had given them provisions that would hopefully last until they left the dismal forest.

Before they left, Beorn had pulled Bilbo aside and said “Don’t worry about changing. It will happen when you need it to.”

Bilbo had smiled and thanked him before mounting a pony and riding away.

As they rode towards Mirkwood, Bilbo and Bomfur began to chat with each other. Yesterday, when he and Thorin had gone in search of food in order to have afternoon tea, Bomfur had been in the kitchen, perfecting a stew recipe. He and Bilbo had promised to exchange recipes once the hobbit had finished eating with Thorin, but there hadn’t been any time for anything but packing. Now though, they whiled away the time by talking about food.

A few times, Bilbo could have sworn he saw the form of a massive black bear stalking them, but he figured that Beorn was just keeping an eye on his ponies.

0o0o0

The Company reached the dark, towering trees of Mirkwood all too soon.

“This is where I leave you,” Gandalf said. “Make sure to leave the ponies here; their master would be very displeased if you took them into Mirkwood.”

“As if we would let them,” Bilbo’s pony muttered. “We would buck these small people before we ever let them take us into that forest.”

Bilbo completely understood. He could feel a sickness over the whole place, a disgusting crawling feeling that got worse the more he stared at it. The feeling wasn’t as bad as the one he got from the ring, but the ring was dormant whereas the darkness in Mirkwood was waiting, anticipating.

“Why must we leave them here?” Thorin asked belligerently. “It would take us more than twice as long to traverse the forest on foot.”

A low growl echoed over the plains to them.

“If you think that Beorn hasn’t been keeping watch then you are a fool Thorin Oakenshield,” Gandalf said. He turned his horse around to the south.

“Wait!” Bilbo cried out. “Why are you leaving?”

“It was only my intention to stay with you long enough to see you past the Misty Mountains, and I have done so. I shall see you all on Durin’s Day,” Gandalf called over his shoulder before riding away.

“Don’t worry Bilbo,” Bomfur said. “Gandalf will return when we have need of him. Besides, it’s just some trees, no need to worry.”

“The forest is sick,” Bilbo muttered. “Would it truly take too long to just go around?”

“To the north are the Grey Mountains, which are crawling with orcs. To the south is a Necromancer, and I would take a horde of orcs any day over one of them,” Bomfur said, shuddering. “No, the path straight through should be the quickest and safest, as long as we stick to it.”

The Company dismounted and unloaded the ponies before sending them back to Beorn. After shouldering their packs they set off into Mirkwood. Bilbo was the last to enter the forest, looking back to catch the sight of the last rays of sunshine he would see for quite some time before he became shrouded in the gloom of Mirkwood.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would anyone be interested in reading deleted scenes and extras from this fic? They'd be really rough and most likely incomplete.


	8. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another week, another chapter.

The path through Mirkwood was narrow, and it wound sinuously through the tall, twisting trees. The stones of the path were white, and if it had been a normal forest, they would have shown in the sunlight glancing through the leaves. This was Mirkwood though, and sunlight rarely dared to pierce the dark atmosphere of the forest.

The gloom of the forest wore heavily on the members of the Company as they trudged along. Bilbo had the best eyesight out of anyone, and he could barely see beyond the reaches of the path. The trees grew too close together, twining in and out of each other until it seemed like the path was lined with one giant mass of wood, interspersed with giant cobwebs. Thankfully, they had yet to meet one of the creators of the webs.

The only animals readily visible in the murkiness were black squirrels. Kili shot one their first day in, and they cooked it, but the meat was so tough and stringy that they decided against eating another.

The nights were the worst part though. The pervading darkness of daytime gave way to complete and utter blackness once the sun set. Even Bilbo couldn’t see anything. They tried to light a fire the first night, but their campsite was soon flooded with giant moths, which were followed by giant bats. It was so repulsive that they immediately put the fire out and from that night on they slept without a fire on the cold forest floor.

Days marched on endlessly in the forest. They knew time was passing, but the endlessness of the forest dragged their spirits down until they felt as if they weren’t moving at all, just walking in circles. They began to lose hope that they would ever leave Mirkwood.

Then, the monotony was broken one late afternoon by the sight of a stream crossing the path. They had begun to run short on provisions, especially water, and so they welcomed the sight of the stream gladly. All except Bilbo. He could feel some strange magic woven into the waters of the stream. Therefore, when the dwarves began to run to the stream he shouted “Wait!”

Bombur was the only one who didn’t listen.

As he stooped to fill his canteen, a white stag suddenly bounded out of the gloom, spooking everyone. It leaped over the stream in a single bound, but it passed so close to Bombur that he violently jerked back from it, losing his balance and falling sideways into the stream. The water was shallow, so most of his face was out of the water when he fell.

They expected Bombur to pull himself out of the water, maybe accompanied by grumbling over the deer, but he just rolled onto his back and laid there. 

Bofur was the first one to move, running over to kneel beside his brother, taking care to stay well away from the water. 

“Bombur, you alright?” he asked, shaking his shoulder lightly. “Come on now, this is no time to be sleeping.”

Bombur’s only response was to begin snoring. 

Bofur shook his shoulder harder. “Wake up Bombur. Come on, wake up. WAKE UP!”

Even shouting did nothing but make Bombur shift slightly in his sleep.

Bifur stepped forward, and together they dragged the sleeping dwarf out of the stream. 

“How did you know?” Thorin asked, turning to Bilbo. “How did you know that it was magic?”

“I-I’m not really sure,” Bilbo stammered, taken aback. “It just felt off, even more so than the forest already does.”

“Do all hobbits get such feelings?” Kili asked, squinting at Bilbo. 

“Why didn’t Gandalf just tell us that hobbits could sense magic?” Fili asked rhetorically. 

“He probably didn’t know,” Bilbo said, and it was true. He wasn’t sure if he would have been able to feel the magic of the stream before his transformation, and it was highly unlikely that Gandalf knew about the true nature of hobbits. Bilbo hadn’t even known he could do that, but he was sure that sensing magic was one of the least of his abilities. After all, according to his mother, unicorns had been such a great threat to evil that they had been hunted to near extinction, and they had the power to almost permanently transform themselves. “Nobody thinks to ask about that sort of thing.”

“Is there anything else that we should know?” Thorin asked, looking at Bilbo in concern.

“No, nothing,” Bilbo said. “Although I think that we might want to sleep now, seeing as night is approaching and there’s no way across this stream.”

Bofur and Bifur quickly and quietly set Bombur down to sleep before setting up their own bedrolls. The rest of the dwarves had already nodded off in the deepening dark, and Bilbo was the last one to drop off.

He didn’t get long to sleep though, because he was awoken when something sharp stabbed him in the leg. Bilbo sat up with a shout, his hand dropping to his leg. The pain was already disappearing, but it was soon replaced by fear when he saw the glittering eyes of a giant spider crouched over him. 

“The meat is waking,” the spider hissed. “It’s supposed to fall asleep when it’s stung. Maybe I should do it again.”

The spider readied its poisonous stinger to stab Bilbo again, but he rolled aside, groping for his sword.

“Stay back!” he shouted, his eyes wide with fright, brandishing his sword in the spider’s direction. The sword began to glow but with a golden color rather than the blue that it had shone with in the goblin tunnels. Maybe different types of evil caused different reactions in elvish metal.

“It has a sting,” the spider said to itself. “I will kill it anyways.”

With that the spider lunged at Bilbo, its legs reaching for him while its mandibles clicked together in anticipation of its meal.

He swung his sword, connecting with the spider’s front legs, and the stench of burned flesh and hair arose from the spider.

“It burns, the sting burns,” the spider cried before collapsing. The disgusting smell grew stronger, and the spider seemed to slowly collapse in on itself from where Bilbo had cut it, crumbling into ash.

Bilbo stared at his glowing sword in awe. “I shall call you Sting,” he said.

It was only then that he looked up and, from the light of his sword, saw that all of the dwarves had vanished.


	9. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finals are over, and so I am back to updating. Enjoy!

Using the golden glow of his sword to pierce the pervading blackness of Mirkwood, Bilbo headed in what he estimated was the direction that the spiders had taken the dwarves. The surrounding forest was cast in an eerie light, and spiderwebs loomed up out of the gloom to ensnare him. A quick slash with Sting took care of them.

If he were able to see behind him, Bilbo would have noticed that, in the places where he had stepped, Mirkwood was a little greener, a little less sick and twisted. Of course, it was the dead of night, so he was completely unaware of what he was doing.

Bilbo walked on and on through the forest. He had lost sight of the path long ago, and he had forgotten to grab their bags when he left. Not to mention, the spider woke him up in the middle of the night, so he was very tired. Still, he kept going, hoping he was headed in the right direction, anxious with the knowledge that he was the only one who could save his friends.

As it turned out, he had been headed in the right direction, although spiders carrying dwarves move a lot faster than hobbits, so by the time he reached the clearing in which a number of giant spiders made their home, they had already been wrapped up, hanging from the webs in cocoons of spider silk.

Bilbo didn’t have long to look at his friends before he was bitten in his left arm by a spider. He shouted in alarm, swinging Sting at the spider with his other arm, but he needn’t have bothered. Just as abruptly as he had been attacked, he was released. The spider’s mandibles were smoking, and it began to shriek.

“It burns, it burns!” the spider screeched. “Why does the meat burn?”

Bilbo stabbed the spider through the head, deciding that it was better to be safe than sorry. Besides, he knew he didn’t have long before the rest of the spiders came running, summoned by their comrade’s screams.

He carefully climbed the nearest tree, using the strands of spider web to help him when needed. He could barely make out the flaps of a hat sticking out of the closest cocoon, and he guessed that Bofur was wrapped up in it. Unfortunately for Bofur, he had been attached to the web upside down, so no matter which way Bilbo freed him he would get hurt.

Bilbo gently cut open the cocoon, starting at Bofur’s feet and going towards his head, hoping that maybe the dwarf could twist around and land on his feet. His care turned out to be for naught, as Bofur was unconscious inside the cocoon, and as soon as Bilbo cut him free he fell to the forest floor.

There weren’t any other dwarves encased within reach of the tree, so Bilbo climbed down and shook Bofur awake.

“Wha-what’s happenin’?” Bofur mumbled, tugging his hat over his eyes.

“Wake up, we’ve been attacked by spiders,” Bilbo hissed.

Bofur lurched upwards, his mattock appearing in his hands as if by magic. “Right then,” He shook his head back and forth a few times. “I don’t see any spiders.”

“I’m not sure where the others are, but they’ll be here soon. I need your help to cut down the others,” Bilbo explained.

Bilbo and Bofur quickly set to work, but they only managed to get Dwalin and Fili free before the spiders returned.

“The meat is getting away!” they screeched. “Catch it! Kill it!”

Dwalin and Fili set to defending the other two while they freed the rest. The dying squeals of the spiders woke the other dwarves, and they began to wriggle in their cocoons, making it more difficult to cut them free. Soon enough, though, all of the dwarves had been freed, although Bilbo and Bofur had needed to kill a few spiders while they worked, and the strange burning caused by Sting raised a few eyebrows.

Then it was a slashing, stabbing mess, with spiders swooping in to jab at the dwarves only for their legs to get lopped off or skewered. Bilbo fought better than he thought he would have, managing to kill any spider that got near him, although that was more due to his sword than his skill. 

More and more spiders were arriving all the time, though, and the Company began to get overwhelmed when, suddenly, a number of spiders began sprouting arrows from their eyes.

With the arrival of the elves, the tide of the battle turned. The spiders began to feel fear, even with their large numbers. The elves killed more and more every second, ducking and weaving in and out of the trees as if they were dancing rather than fighting. Bilbo stopped fighting, concentrating on dodging rather than attacking, because he figured that, now that the elves were here, there was no need for him to fight.

This turned out to be untrue. One spider managed to get into his blind spot and, with a mighty swipe of its legs, sent him crashing into a tree, knocking him out.

Unfortunately, Bifur was the only one to notice the spider carrying off Bilbo’s unconscious body.

0o0o0

When Bilbo woke up, he couldn’t breathe. His mouth and nose were completely covered by spider silk. In a matter of seconds, he sunk into a total panic, struggling and wiggling in an attempt to free himself.

“The meat is awake,” he heard a spider chuckle to itself. “Yum.”

Bilbo’s mind was so overwhelmed by panic that he wasn’t aware that he was tapping into his powers, it was instinctive. He had already been doing it to a small extent, channeling a bit of them through his sword, but this was different. Rather than letting a small bit of his magic escape, Bilbo submerged himself in his magic, completely opening himself up to it.

The shift was instantaneous. One second he was a panicking hobbit, trapped in spider silk, and the next he was a unicorn. The spider silk dissolved around him, unable to stand up to the aura of goodness that radiated out from him.

The spider that had been carrying Bilbo dropped him, screaming as it was burnt up by the force of his aura. Bilbo landed on his side and was winded for a moment before he awkwardly scrambled to his feet, unused to his current shape.

Bilbo was a golden color in his unicorn form, the same color that Sting had glowed when he tapped into his powers, and his horn lit up the gloom in much the same way as his sword had. 

It was easy to see which way the spider had come from, so Bilbo began trotting off in that direction, hating that he had once again been separated from the Company.


	10. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for not getting this up on Wednesday; it completely slipped my mind.

Once again, Bilbo was searching for the dwarves in Mirkwood. The circumstances were a little different this time around though. For one, he was now a unicorn. Also, it was Bilbo who had been carried off by a giant spider this time, not the dwarves, and he had no idea how to get back to them. Therefore he trotted in a direction he felt might lead him to the rest of the Company, figuring that it would be better to keep moving rather than sitting around and waiting.

It didn’t take Bilbo long to notice that the forest was different around him. The vegetation was greener, and the trees felt less like they were sick. It was almost as if he was healing Mirkwood. For all Bilbo knew, he was. After all, he had no clue as to the extent of his powers. So far, he knew that he could understand animals, sense magic, heal much more rapidly than before, was immune to poisons, and could burn up giant evil spiders if he touched them. 

For a moment he wondered if he should feel guilty about the last ability, but then he remembered that the spiders had been about to eat him and his friends and felt quite glad for it.

He was so caught up in his contemplations on his powers that Bilbo didn’t notice that a pair of elves were following him until they dropped out of the trees in front of him. He skidded to a halt, noticing with some chagrin that he was even smaller in this form- he only came up to their knees. He was also a little confused on how he had missed their presence; one of them had bright red hair that shone even in the gloom.

“Come now, little one, you are headed in the wrong direction,” the brunet elf, who was closest to him, coaxed with a gentle smile as he held out a hand. “The halls of the King of the Woodland Realm lie in to the east of here.”

“It’s just a horse, Ruscon; he can’t understand you,” the red haired elf said, sheathing her sword at her hip.

Ruscon knelt down in front of Bilbo and slowly reached out as if the elf was going to pet him. Bilbo tossed his head and stepped back; as if he was going to let some strange elf treat him like an animal.

Rather than looking sad, Ruscon looked elated. “Look around you, Faeleth. He is healing the forest. The King would be upset if we found a unicorn and didn’t bring it in.”

Faeleth snorted. “Unicorns have passed out of Arda, returning to the Valar. I believe that our King will be more upset if we bring in a tiny horse, claiming that it is a legend.”

“He is already angered because of the dwarves locked away in the dungeons; maybe this news will offer some respite.”

Bilbo’s ears pricked up. The dwarves were locked up in the Elvenking’s dungeons, not out roaming the forest as he had thought. Maybe it would be best if he let these elves lead him back to the halls of the Elvenking, and then he could free his friends. From what his mother had told him and from what he had discovered for himself, Bilbo guessed that unicorns had been powerful allies back when they had openly roamed Middle-Earth, and he was hoping that Thranduil would be willing to listen to him.

Suddenly, arms were encircling him and lifting him into the air. Bilbo wriggled around, trying to get away from the unexpected and unwelcome touch. The arms only tightened, pinning him down.

“Relax little unicorn,” Ruscon hushed right into his ear. It was not very soothing, but Bilbo stopped trying to squirm free. “It will be faster if I carry you.”

Faeleth laughed. “He does not appear to be very happy with you right now.”

The other elf chuckled in response.

Bilbo sulked the whole way to the Elvenking’s halls.

0o0o0

The three of them were quickly ushered through the gates, the expressions on the other elves faces ranging from shock and disbelief to incredulity and amusement. 

The Elvenking’s throne room was big and ostentatious; it was obviously designed to impress and intimidate those who came before the elf lounging on the throne.

“My lord, we found this,” Faeleth gestured to Bilbo. “In the forest. We believe he is a unicorn.”

“He was healing the forest, my lord,” Ruscon added.

Bilbo disliked being held as if he was a child.

Thranduil leaned forward. “Set him down and leave us,” he commanded.

The elf carefully set Bilbo down, and then both of them left.

Thranduil stepped down from his throne. He began to walk in circles around Bilbo, although the hobbit turned unicorn was able to keep the Elvenking in his sight for much longer than normal. Having eyes on two different sides of his head as opposed to the front of his face was a little disconcerting.

The Elvenking paced for many minutes, during which Bilbo grew more and more nervous. His wings, which he had no idea how to control, fluttered anxiously against his back.

Finally, Thranduil stopped, his back to Bilbo.

“Do not think I am not grateful that you have come to heal my lands, but I must ask why you have waited so long to show yourself.”

BIlbo had no clue how to respond to that, so he just took a step backwards. He was hoping to win freedom for the dwarves, not answer for why the unicorns had gone into hiding thousands of years before he was born.

The Elvenking whirled around suddenly. “Well? I know you can speak, so don’t pretend to be a dumb animal.”

Bilbo thought that his changed mouth would make speaking impossible, but apparently not.

“I, uh,” Bilbo coughed a few times; speaking with his new mouth was very strange and slightly uncomfortable. “Excuse me, sorry. I had no intention of healing your forest. It was nothing more than a happy accident.”

Thranduil narrowed his eyes. “Then why, after so many years of absence, have the unicorns resurfaced now?”

“My companions and I are on a quest to rid the world of a great evil,” was all Bilbo said.

“Your companions wouldn’t happen to be dwarves, now would they?”

Bilbo said nothing, but his silence must have been answer enough. Thranduil resumed his pacing, his hands clasped behind his back.

“So the dwarves get your help in slaying a dragon, yet I receive nothing?”

“It was my choice to help the dwarves,” Bilbo explained, a little annoyed by the Elvenking. “And I already gave them my word that I would help them against Smaug.”

“Then you shall have to wait a long time to resume your quest; I don’t plan to release them anytime soon. Such is the penalty of trespassing,” Thranduil said as he ascended to his throne and sat down.

A wave of anger swept over Bilbo. This arrogant elf would keep his friends, his dwarves, locked up in a dungeon for years, never to see Erebor again if he could help it, and all because they needed to cross through Mirkwood to get to their home. It was infuriating, and, for just one second, Bilbo contemplated regicide.

Then, Bilbo realized that he had leverage over the Elvenking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started watching the X-Files, so I decided to add a Scully elf and a Mulder elf. Rusc means fox in Sindarin, and Fael means generous, which is one of the meanings of Dana. I don't think they'll show up again, but who knows.


	11. Chapter 10

After much debating between Bilbo and Thranduil over the terms of the dwarves’ release, the Elvenking led Bilbo to a private room where he and the rest of the Company could rest while Bilbo explained the new developments to them. Thranduil had promised them food and privacy, for which Bilbo was grateful. It had been too long since he had eaten, and he didn’t want anyone nearby to hear the dwarves’ reaction when they learned that Bilbo was a unicorn. If he could just figure out how to change back, then maybe he could avoid it, but someone would likely grow suspicious of how he had managed to sway the Elvenking to release them. No, it was better that he told them now.

 

There was a fire crackling in a carved-out section of the cave wall, and numerous cushions were piled in front of it. They looked so inviting, and Bilbo’s day had been very long and stressful. He decided to curl up on one of them while he waited for the dwarves to arrive.

 

He quickly slipped into a light doze, his breathing soft and slow. His mind drifted on a haze of dreams filled with warmth and comfort and the scent of home.

 

He was awakened some time later by the opening of the door. He didn’t open his eyes, instead tracking the dwarves by the sound of their voices. From what he could tell, all of them were present and happy to be reunited, even if they were suspicious about their release.

 

“Fili, look at this unicorn carving!” Kili shouted from nearby. Bilbo realized that the young dwarf was talking about him. “I had no idea the elves were such excellent carvers. It almost looks real.”

 

“They probably stole it,” Fili grumbled.

 

“I don’t see a maker’s mark on it,” Kili said, lightly running a finger down one of Bilbo’s wings.

 

Bilbo was not a very ticklish hobbit, but apparently his wings were extremely ticklish. He suddenly wriggled away from Kili, his wings flapping wildly. One of them might have smacked Fili in the face.

 

“It’s alive!” Kili screamed, as he and his brother scrambled away from Bilbo. 

 

That caught the attention of the other dwarves. As one, they all turned and stared at Bilbo.

 

“Mahal’s beard,” Balin breathed reverently. “A unicorn.”

 

“Yes, about that,” Bilbo said as he got his feet under him and stood. “This is as much of a surprise to you as it was to me.”

 

“Bilbo, is that you?” Bofur asked, his eyebrows climbing up under his hat.

 

Bilbo nodded, and the Company broke out into exclamations along the lines of “We were so worried,” and “We didn’t see you when the elves came,” and also “How? Just how?”

 

Finally, Thorin yelled “Quiet!” after which they settled down.

 

“Thank you Thorin,” Bilbo said. “Now, I’ve been talking with the King, and he has agreed to let us go and to give us provisions in order to continue our journey.”

 

“What’s the catch?” Thorin asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “There’s always a catch when one deals with elves. And are you going to explain how you managed to persuade the bastard?”

 

“And also how in Mahal’s name you turned into a unicorn?” Nori muttered.

 

“We’re going to be given an escort,” Bilbo explained, choosing to ignore Nori. “The prince and one of the captains of the guard will be accompanying us to Lake-town.”

 

“I’d rather eat my own shit than travel with that stuck-up tree-shagging prince,” Gloin spat, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring.

 

“Did the king tell you which guard was coming with?” Kili asked, looking hopeful.

 

“No, he only said it would be a captain,” Bilbo said.

 

Kili pouted.

 

“Was there any other condition?” Thorin asked, bringing the conversation back to the original topic.

 

“It only applies if we survive the dragon, but, if we do, I have to come back and heal Mirkwood,” Bilbo said.

 

Bofur walked over and sat down on a cushion next to Bilbo. “Can you even do that?”

 

Bilbo shrugged as best as he could. “I was doing it by accident after I was grabbed by a spider and changed.”

 

The rest of the dwarves followed Bofur’s example and sat down next to the fire.

 

“Do you mind telling us how that happened?” Ori timidly asked.

 

“It’s a family thing, likely from my mother’s side,” Bilbo explained, telling part of the truth. “People always say that a Took married a fairy a long time ago.”

 

Ori’s eyes widened. “How did you know you could change?”

 

“I didn’t,” Bilbo admitted. “It just happened, and I have no idea how to change back.”

 

He could tell that they wanted to ask more, but many of them were covering up yawns and blinking heavily.

 

“As fascinating as this is,” Dwalin said. “I think I speak for all of us when I say that we need some sleep first.”

 

There was a murmur of agreement in response to his words, and the dwarves all made their way to the pillows, all but collapsing onto them. It had been a long day, and their time in the dungeons likely hadn’t helped them heal from the effects of the spider venom.

 

As the dwarves settled into sleep, Bilbo weighed the upsides and downsides of attempting to heal the dwarves. It would be very handy if he could heal others, but he had no idea if it was possible. Besides, they had just fallen asleep, and he didn’t want to wake them up. On the other hand, the spider venom could have more detrimental effects in the future. The least he could do was try.

 

His mind made up, Bilbo turned to Thorin, who was sleeping closest to him. He slowly reached over with one of his front hooves and rested it on Thorin’s arm. Nothing happened. Hoof to coat clearly did nothing, so maybe he needed skin to skin contact. 

 

Bilbo ever so gently leaned over, touched his nose to Thorin’s hand, and concentrated on making him feel better. A golden glow suffused him and engulfed Thorin’s hand. It gradually traveled from the point of contact up Thorin’s arm, disappearing under the sleeve of his coat. Soon enough, Thorin’s entire body was gently glowing. 

 

Thorin shifted suddenly under Bilbo’s nose, stretching out. Bilbo hastily leaned away from him as the dwarf blinked the sleep from his eyes.

 

“Bilbo,” Thorin mumbled, rubbing at his eyes. “Is something wrong?”

 

“No, nothing. I was just seeing if I could get rid of any remaining spider venom, that’s all.”

 

Thorin reached out a hand and rested it against Bilbo’s back. It was very warm.

 

“You died,” Thorin said suddenly.

 

“What?” Bilbo was confused. Did he mean that they had thought that Bilbo was dead after he got taken by the spider?

 

“You got sick after we got down from the Carrock, hallucinating and feverish, and then you fainted. All Gandalf would tell me was that murder was abhorrent to hobbits for reasons beyond just morality, that your sickness was because you had saved my life. You got worse rapidly, and then you stopped breathing. Mahal, Bilbo,” Thorin reached out and wrapped both of his arms around him, pulling him onto his lap. “I was so relieved when you got better, and you were fine, completely fine. But then you disappeared when the elves attacked, and they wouldn’t even go back to look for you,” Thorin clutched him tighter. “And this is so strange, but at least you’re alive.”

 

“It’s even stranger for me,” Bilbo said, choosing to address the last part of Thorin’s speech. “I have wings and a sharp horn growing out of my forehead and I’m a horse now and I’m even smaller than before.”

 

Thorin chuckled, a deep rumble that vibrated through Bilbo. “You are very little now, but that isn’t a bad thing. From what I’ve heard in stories, unicorns are incredibly powerful. You’re size will make people underestimate you.”

 

“You mean like you did?” Bilbo asked.

 

Thorin sighed. “I do regret that.”

 

“It’s alright. You should go back to sleep though; I need to heal the others,” Bilbo said.

 

Thorin slowly unwound his arms from around Bilbo and shifted him off of his lap. “Make sure you get some sleep as well, Bilbo.”

 

“Of course,” Bilbo promised as Thorin laid down and gradually drifted back to sleep, his face much more relaxed than before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, there is bagginshield fluff. Also, because of my beta, I feel the need to include that Thorin was NOT glowing because he is pregnant. It was only healing magic, not nonsexual pregnancy magic. That is all.


	12. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter this week, sorry. Half way done, though.

The Company stayed in Mirkwood for a week, resting and recuperating from their ordeal with the spiders.

 

It took Bilbo three days to change back into a hobbit, and it was, of course, Thorin who inadvertently triggered the change.

 

He had not shown up for breakfast, so Bilbo decided to go see if something was wrong. 

 

Bilbo found Thorin sitting on the floor, leaning against a wall and staring at nothing, a line between his eyebrows the only sign of worry. He trotted over and sat down next to the dwarf, laying his head on Thorin’s thigh. Thorin began to stroke Bilbo’s mane, and Bilbo could feel the tension slowly leak from Thorin’s body.

 

“I promised my sister that I would keep her sons safe, did you know?” Thorin asked. “I don’t think it is within my capabilities though. We are lucky to have made it this far without any deaths, and I worry that they will be the first. They are so young.”

 

Bilbo wanted more than anything to have arms so that he could hold Thorin and comfort him. Then, in an instant, he felt his magic twist, and suddenly Bilbo was a hobbit again. It felt a little bit like pulling a cloak around himself.

 

He immediately sat up and hugged Thorin, only realizing later that his clothes hadn’t survived the initial transformation from hobbit to unicorn.

 

Thorin was happy to lend Bilbo his coat, at least until the elves arrived later with proper clothes.

 

0o0o0

 

This time, their trip through Mirkwood was not as horrible. Oh, the forest itself was still oppressive and gloomy, and the dwarves still tended to get a little confused at times, but Bilbo, Captain Tauriel, or Prince Legolas were always able to pull them back to the path. Kili in particular seemed to wander a lot, although Bilbo suspected that was because Tauriel was always the one to guide him back when he did.

 

At times, Bilbo even enjoyed their trek, mostly because it afforded him the opportunity to ask questions of the elves. Currently, they were discussing the political structure of Lake-town.

 

“The people of Lake-town are governed by a man known as the Master,” Tauriel said. “Although I do not know his name. He is a particularly odious specimen; one meeting with him was more than enough.”

 

“Is the Master a hereditary title then?” Bilbo asked.

 

“I am afraid-” Tauriel stilled, staring into the forest behind them. “Legolas!”

 

“I hear them,” Legolas said in Sindarin, which Bilbo was able to understand perfectly. “We are near enough that the dwarves should be able to reach Lake-town soon. We will take care of the orcs to give them enough time to do so.”

 

A black arrow whistled out of the trees and planted itself in Kili’s leg. He crumpled to the ground with a grunt, and Bilbo cringed, his stomach churning. He could practically taste the dark poison on the arrow.

 

Almost too fast for him to see, Tauriel drew her bow and fired an arrow back behind them, followed swiftly by two more. The shrieks and cries of orcs rose up behind them and were answered by the war cries of the dwarves.

 

“Tauriel and I will handle the orcs,” Legolas said. “You must take Master Baggins to Lake-town.”

 

The two elves disappeared into the trees with a whirl of arrows and blades.

 

“Dori and Dwalin, take Kili and Bilbo,” Thorin ordered.

 

“Pardon me lad,” Dori said as he hoisted Kili into his arms.

 

“I’ve got ya,” Dwalin grumbled, picking Bilbo up and slinging him over his shoulder.

 

Bilbo would have protested the indignity, but the dwarves had already taken off down the path. He decided that his concentration was better suited to trying to make sure none of them wandered too far. Fortunately, it seemed that the promise of battle had sharpened their focus enough to throw off the befuddling gloom of Mirkwood, at least temporarily.

 

The path they were following led them to river, which flowed towards Long Lake.

 

For a little while, the Company was haunted by the sounds of the battle, but the din faded the further downstream the dwarves ran.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last of my pre-written chapters, so I may not have one up next week.


	13. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a warning: Bilbo experiences what can be seen as the beginning of a panic attack. If you want to skip that, stop reading at "0o0o0" and start again at "I need the gold now!"

Later, Bilbo wouldn’t be able to remember how long it took them to reach the Lake. 

At one point, he tripped over a rock, landing on his hands and knees. Thorin didn’t even pause in his running as he scooped Bilbo up and slung the hobbit over his shoulder. Every step dug into Bilbo’s stomach, but he just grit his teeth and ignored the hurt.

They stopped running at the edge of the lake, all but collapsing onto a rocky outcropping. Thorin gently set Bilbo down.

“Now what?” Dwalin asked between panting breaths. “Are we gonna walk all the way round the lake?”

“I don’t think Kili’s leg will be able to take that,” Fili said, watching his brother with concern.

“Besides, we need to wait for the elves to get back,” Kili added.

“Archer!” Bofur shouted, and all of the dwarves dove for cover.

A tall man stood on the lakeshore, an arrow nocked on his bow and aimed at Kili, who hadn’t been able to move. Behind him, Bilbo could make out the shape of a boat.

“What business do dwarves have with elves?” the man demanded, his watchful eyes narrowed as if daring them to lie.

Balin carefully stood, his hands raised above his head. “The elves were our escorts through the forest. We are on a mission of some importance.”

It was not even a lie. 

 

“Is that so? Where are the elves now then?”

“Unfortunately, our party was ambushed by orcs. Our escorts remained behind in order to fight them off while we carried on,” Balin said.

“Orcs, hmm?” If possible, the man’s face became even graver. “And I suppose you seek shelter in Esgaroth now?”

“If it wouldn’t be an imposition on your hospitality, then we would be most anxious to spend the night in a warm bed and restock our supplies. They were lost when the orcs attacked, you see.” Balin explained.

The man released the tension on his bowstring, returning the arrow to his quiver and letting the bow rest at his side. “I cannot ferry you across the lake for free, you understand. It is a hard life out here.”

“We are from Erebor, lad,” Balin chuckled into his beard. “We understand a hard life. We have some gold with which to pay you, and the elves are sure to give you more.”

The man sighed. “I am Bard, and I highly doubt the elves will be willing to pay anything. Esgaroth depends on their king’s goodwill, after all. Still, I will gladly accept your gold.” 

Thorn spoke up for the first time. “You have our thanks, Bard the bowman.”

0o0o0

The boat ride was not a very pleasant experience. Bilbo had faced worse - the goblin caves and Gollum immediately came to mind - but the sensation of being surrounded by water with no way to escape was not something any hobbit ever wanted to experience. In an attempt to quell the panic he could feel bubbling up, Bilbo carefully huddled in the middle of the boat, his head between his knees so that he wouldn’t have to see the lake, and he worked on regulating his breathing.

“Alright there Bilbo?” Bofur asked. “You don’t look so good.”

“Hobbits do not swim; we sink,” Bilbo bit out, his voice muffled by his knees.

The boat began to rock out of pattern with Bard’s steering, and Bilbo looked up in alarm. 

He was surrounded on all sides by dwarves.

Thorin sat directly to his left, Dwalin to his right, Bofur directly in front of him, and Nori behind.

“Don’t worry Bilbo,” Thorin rumbled. “We will not let you drown. Besides, we are almost to Laketown.”

Bilbo slumped over into Thorin’s side, taking a small bit of comfort from his sturdy warmth.

“I need the gold now!” Bard called out.

“Why now?” Gloin asked. “What’s the hurry?”

“If you want to get into Esgaroth, you will give me the gold!”

“Of course, Mister Bard, we’ll just be a few moments,” Balin said.

Bilbo steadfastly rode out the rocking of the boat as the gold was collected and given to Bard. Thorn wrapped his arm around Bilbo.

“Evening Bard. What’s with all the dwarves?” someone asked from nearby.

Bilbo looked up in time to see gold exchange hands between Bard and another man wearing some sort of uniform.

“Just some traders staying here for a few days,” Bard explained with a smile.

The lie itched under Bilbo’s skin, but he kept quiet. He did not want to draw any more attention to their party than was necessary, and stating their true purpose would definitely draw attention.

“Be careful Bard. The Master’s at it again,” the other man said, his eyes nervous as he waved them through.

Bilbo resisted the urge to glance around at the dilapidated town, certain that he could feel judging eyes following their every move. His shoulders hunched up under his ears.

It didn’t take Bard long to tie up his boat in front of his house, and he carefully helped Bilbo when it came his time to disembark.

“Would you be so kind as to direct us to an inn for the night?” Balin asked once they were all on the walkway.

“It would be safer for you to stay with me for the night, I think,” Bard said reluctantly, glancing towards a house that rose above the rest in the distance. “I have food and enough room for all of you to sleep, and my daughter is a healer. She can help with him.” Bard canted his head towards Kili.

“Very well,” Thorin said. “We appreciate whatever assistance you might offer.”

Bard didn’t exactly look pleased as he lead them into his home.

His three children, on the other hand, were curious and delighted by the visitors, never having seen dwarves or hobbits before, and it didn’t take them long to prepare dinner and set the table.

Bilbo and the dwarves had barely sat down to eat with Bard’s family when someone pounded at the door.

“Open up Bard! We know you’re in there!” they shouted.

“One of the Master’s men must have seen you arrive. They’re probably here to arrest us. I should’ve been more careful getting you in here,” Bard sighed.

“Arrest us,” Bofur cried. “But we’ve done nothin’ wrong!”

Bard snorted. “The Master probably thinks he can squeeze more gold out of you. I hope your elf friends get here soon.”

“Tauriel will come,” Kili insisted, his face alarmingly pale.

“We were promised their aid,” Thorin said. “But the Elfking has been known to betray his allies before.”

“There is nothing to be done now. Go hide, children,” Bard ordered. Only once they had scampered off to a back room did he open the door, a fake smile plastered on his face.

A short man with scraggly black hair, a matching unibrow, and yellowed teeth pushed past Bard into the room. “I knew it. You’ve gone too far this time, bowman. Your days of smuggling are over. Lock them up!” he cried dramatically. “Lock them all up!”

“The people will not stand for the Master’s law much longer, Alfrid. They won’t be happy to see innocent people get locked up,” Bard warned.

Alfrid pointedly ignored him.

Guards, at least two per person, swarmed into the room and forced everyone out of Bard’s home, marching them past gawking bystanders. Bilbo was forced to run to keep up with his captors, forced into line behind Nori.

The two who grabbed Bilbo seemed strangely fascinated with him.

“What’s this one then? A female dwarf?” one of them asked, staring at Bilbo out of the corner of his eye.

“Excuse me?” Nori said.

“Nah,” said the other one. “Look at ‘is ears. I think he’s a baby elf.”

“I can hear you perfectly well,” Bilbo began, anger and indignation suffusing his cheeks with red. “And I will have you know that I am a hobbit, not a dwarf or an elf.”

“Oi! Quiet back there!” Alfrid shouted.

Before long, they arrived at their destination, which only stood out among all of the dingy houses and shops because it was even more dismal than they were. The building served multiple purposes: a headquarters for the town guard, an armory, and a prison. There was only one giant cell in the entire place, already occupied by an unconscious drunk, sleeping off his intoxication.

The door slammed shut behind them, the noise briefly stirring the drunkard, leaving the Company to their prison.

 


	14. Chapter 13

As soon as the door slammed shut behind them, the dwarves began to plan their escape.

"It wouldn't take too long to get the hinges off the door," Nori commented, his eyes narrowed in concentration.

"We can take the guards easily," Dwalin muttered. "They don't seem to have much training. I could probably take them myself if I had some weapons."

"No killing," Thorin ordered. "If everything goes to plan, then we'll end up being neighbors with these people. It is important we keep their good will."

Bard snorted. "Not to mention, their families would be devastated by their loss."

Thorin nodded in acknowledgement. Before he could say more, however, Kili collapsed in a boneless heap.

"Kili!" Fili cried, rushing to his brother's side.

Kili’s face was gray, and he was clearly struggling to keep his eyes open. He was succumbing to the darkness that Bilbo had sensed earlier.

They had been lucky so far; despite all the danger, none of them had been killed. Was it inevitable, at this late stage, that they lose someone? Was Kili's life the price they would post to retake the mountain?

No. Bilbo refused to let anyone die now, not when they were so close. Kili would live to see Erebor free from the dragon's influence if Bilbo had anything to say about it.

He had been able to remove the spider poison from the dwarves, so what was to say he couldn't heal the taint from Kili's blood?

It took only a few steps for Bilbo to reach Kili’s side, but each one felt like it lasted an eternity. By healing his friend, he would be exposing some of his power to an outsider, one who had no reason to keep his secret. However, there was no longer any question in Bilbo’s mind about whether or not he would heal Kili. He was going to do it, and whatever Bard chose to do about what he saw was up to the bowman.

“Here, move his clothes,” Bilbo said as he sat next to Fili. “I can heal him if I can get to the wound.”

Fili hurriedly pushed the leg of Kili’s trousers up, exposing the blackening arrow wound to the air.

Bilbo hissed in sympathy as he carefully placed his hands on the reddened skin around the puncture. He concentrated on purging the darkness from the wound and healing it. His hands became suffused in the golden glow, and he focused on closing the wound. However, every time it seemed like the wound was about to heal over, the taint in Kili’s blood resisted his efforts, reaching further and further into the dwarf’s bloodstream. Bilbo was worried that Kili would die if the darkness reached his heart.

Determined not to let that happen, Bilbo furrowed his brow and tried to project the glow out from his hands, hoping that the light would cleanse the dark taint in Kili’s blood and finally allow the wound to heal. Sweat beaded on his brow as he reached inside of himself, searching for the source of his power so that he could pour it from his hands and into his friend. 

It was easy to get lost in introspection, in centering himself to find his power. He thought he would find it in his head, the center of thought and reason, so he closed his eyes and focused inward. He found little traces of light and power in his head, but not as much as he hoped. Bilbo followed the light, and he noticed a core of it, glowing at his heart. There were many streams branching out of the core, fragile little filaments. Two slightly broader streams trickled down his arms, pooling in his hands.

With a little force of will and determination, Bilbo found that he could direct more of the glow down the two broader streams. His mind followed one of the streams, stopping only once he reached his hand. Beneath his hand, he could feel the pulse of darkness beating against his skin. A slight mental push against the barriers of their skin was all that was needed for Bilbo’s power to go.

Like a leaf in a river, Bilbo’s mind was suddenly swept away by his power as it rushed through Kili’s bloodstream, seeking out the taint and destroying it. He was tugged in thousands of directions at once, spread thin enough to snap. He was distantly aware of his lungs greedily sucking in air and his heart racing, but they were pushed to the periphery of his focus. His mind was being torn apart as it tried to keep up with his power, so Bilbo just let himself go, riding out the current.

Then, finally, the last of the darkness was burned from Kili, and Bilbo’s power rushed back into his body, healing and sealing the wound as it went. His mind was carried along with, snapping him back into reality with all the sharpness of a punch to the face. He blinked once, then twice, struggling to readjust his focus. Sparkling lights danced across Bilbo’s vision and a high pitched noise rang in his ears. He slumped over, unconscious before he even hit the floor of the cell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you guys want to see more of the story before I post the next chapter, I post bits and pieces of whatever I'm working on everyday on my [tumblr](http://thefreakwiththewings.tumblr.com/).


	15. Chapter 14

Bilbo woke to see the very concerned face of Captain Tauriel peering down at him.

“How are you feeling, Master Baggins?” she asked, resting a hand on his forehead.

Bilbo smiled shakily, shrugging her hand away as he pushed himself into a seated position. “I am fine, truly. No need for concern. How is Kili?”

“Completely healed, thanks to you. I believe there is someone else who wishes to speak with you,” Tauriel said, a corner of her mouth quirking upwards, before she slipped away.

Bilbo was suddenly engulfed in a rib-cracking hug.

“Thank you,” Thorin rumbled almost directly into his ear. “Thank you so much for healing him.”

Bilbo smiled into Thorin’s shoulder. “Any one of you would have done it if they had the power, Thorin, and I just happened to be the only one able to.”

“Nonsense,” Thorin said before he released Bilbo from the hug. “While you were unconscious, the elves arrived and brought us here.”

Bilbo looked around, noticing his surroundings for the first time. The room they were in was clearly trying to be opulent, with its heavy purple drapes, thick carpet, and large armchairs. However, the general atmosphere of decay rather ruined the image, in Bilbo’s opinion.

“Where are we?” he asked.

“The Master of Laketown’s abode. He is throwing a feast later tonight, and he invited us all to attend,” Thorin said.

“What’s the occasion?”

Thorin mumbled something under his breath.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch that,” Bilbo tilted his head. “What did you say?”

Thorin cleared his throat. “The Master is aware of our quest, and he wishes to send us off with his idea of a grand feast.”

Bilbo sighed. Thorin had probably announced their quest very dramatically, meaning the Master had no choice but to show them favor. His stomach grumbled noisily, reminding him that it had been sometime since he’d last eaten.

“When does it start?” Bilbo asked. “I’m starved.”

“A half an hour ago,” Thorin said.

“A half an - well why didn’t you wake me?” Bilbo asked indignantly.

“I- we were concerned for you,” Thorin retorted, an irritated expression crossing his face. When Bilbo didn’t say anything, he huffed and left the room through the same door Captain Tauriel had used.

Bilbo sighed and, after checking to make sure his clothes were as presentable as they could be after spending a night in prison, followed Thorin. There was no point in missing a perfectly good feast because Thorin was upset about something.

After a few minutes of searching, Bilbo found the dining room at the end of a long hallway decorated in the same theme of decaying luxury as the room where he had woken up.

There was barely enough room for everyone at the table, but there was plenty of food and ale to go round. Bilbo ended up squished between Bofur and Thorin, and although there were many tips he wished to give the cook, he ended up enjoying himself immensely. At times, the cheerful atmosphere felt a bit forced, the specter of the dragon looming over them all, but all it took was a joke or two to banish the gloom. At one point, Kili decided that a drinking contest was a brilliant idea. Bilbo, of course, outdrank all who participated. The ale they were being served was incredibly weak compared to a proper Shire drink, but apparently dwarvish alcohol wasn’t all that strong, because Bofur slipped off the table and fell asleep towards the end.

Afterwards, Bilbo ended up having to help Thorin back to the rooms the Master had provided for them. Thorin was drunk enough that he had trouble keeping his balance, and so he hung on Bilbo’s shoulder for most of the way. Not that Bilbo was complaining. After all, he didn’t even feel tipsy, so of course he should help Thorin to his bed. There were no other reasons, despite what Nori clearly thought if the wink he threw Bilbo over Dwalin’s shoulder was any indication.

It was a bit of a struggle to get Thorin through the door; he kept getting caught on the door frame somehow, and they really had to squeeze together to both fit through at once.

Bilbo carefully guided Thorin to his bed and made sure that when he flopped onto it he wasn’t suffocating himself. Then, as he turned to leave, a hand snagged the back of his shirt and dragged him backwards. 

“Ooof, Thorin, what’re you doing?” Bilbo whispered.

“Shhhh,” Thorin shushed into Bilbo’s hair as he curled around him, his arm as heavy as an oaken beam around Bilbo’s waist. “Go t’sleep.”

“Thorin, you need to let me go; I have my own bed,” Bilbo protested half-heartedly.

The only response was quiet snores. Bilbo sighed heavily and decided that there was no harm in sharing a bed with Thorin. Warm and content, it wasn’t long before he dropped off to sleep as well.


	16. Chapter 15

Bilbo awoke warm, energized, and partially squashed beneath Thorin, feeling ready to get up and face the day if he could get out from under the dwarf. Then he remembered that they were going up the mountain and he might have to face a dragon by the end of the day, and he decided that it would be better to just stay in bed. All too soon though, Thorin began to wake up.

“Bilbo, what are you doing in my bed?” he mumbled, blinking the sleep from his eyes.

“Well, it’s a funny story. You see, you got a little drunk at the feast last night and, after I helped you get to bed, you decided to kidnap me,” Bilbo said.

Thorin rolled off of Bilbo and stared up at the ceiling. “My apologies.”

Bilbo shrugged. “No need to worry. If you really feel that embarrassed, look at it this way: we’re all about to die facing a dragon.”

Thorin turned to Bilbo, his expression stricken. “You must not die. Promise me.”

Bilbo nodded quickly.

“I need you to say it, Bilbo. Promise me you will not die,” Thorin pleaded, the lines of his body tense. 

It was a little disconcerting, and for a moment Bilbo wondered if he was still dreaming. Regardless, it was obviously important to the dwarf, and he planned on doing his best to survive anyways.

“I swear to you that I will do my level best to survive,” Bilbo promised. 

A great deal of the tension leaked out of Thorin. “Thank you.”

“Anyways,” Bilbo said as he rolled off of the bed and began putting on his shoes. “If we don’t hurry there’ll be no need for my promise because we won’t even be able to get into the Mountain in the first place.”

Thorin’s eyes widened in panic and he cursed under his breathe. He scrambled out of bed and dashed out of the room, leaving his boots behind him in his haste. Bilbo fondly rolled his eyes and grabbed them; it wouldn’t do to climb a mountain in bare feet.

Bilbo was very discrete when he handed Thorin his boots at the breakfast table. Really. There was definitely no one watching when he gave them back, and he certainly didn’t mention that Thorin had forgotten them under the bed. He didn’t avert his eyes from any money exchanging hands whatsoever during breakfast. He absolutely did not see Fili and Kili shove each other excitedly, whispering behind their hands. 

“Are the elves going to join us this morning?” Bilbo asked as he sat down. 

Dwalin snorted derisively. “No elf will be entering the mountain today.”

A round of ‘aye’s echoed loudly around the table.

“Not before the rest of our people get a chance!” Gloin bellowed in agreement.

More cheers went up, which was surprising considering how much some of the dwarves had drank. A loud thud followed by a groan from beneath the table interrupted the cheering.

“What’s with all the noise?” Bofur asked blearily as he crawled out from under the table.

“We almost missed you, cousin. Don’t drink so heavily in the future,” Bifur said.

Bilbo blinked and shook his head. Had he just understood Bifur? Maybe understanding languages was another side effect of being a unicorn.

Breakfast was over soon after that, and then they loaded themselves into a boat and headed for Erebor.

0o0o0

There was a shift in the dwarves’ demeanor once the door to Erebor was opened. They were hungrier, more eager than ever - even those who had been born after the dragon - and yet they were also more relaxed, but a bit fearful as well. It was the air, Bilbo realized, of one who has come home after a long journey and expects a very negative reception.

Bilbo had built up the idea in his head that Erebor was like a giant hobbit-hole, warm, comfortable, and full of food, because it was what he was familiar with. All he really knew about it was that it was a grand kingdom under a mountain and that it was full of enough gold to attract a dragon.

His expectation wasn’t anything like reality.

Everything was sharp, angular and intricately carved. The hallways loomed upwards, much higher than the dwarves actually needed. It was all very impressive, at least the parts that weren’t destroyed by the dragon. Bilbo may have gaped at some of the artwork he saw carved into the stones.

Some of the tunnels he passed gave off a feeling of hopelessness and crushing fear. He didn’t look down those tunnels.

He did have some worries about getting lost in the seemingly endless hallways, spending days on end searching for the treasury only to drop dead of starvation when he finally got there, but they turned out to be unfounded. The glow- hopefully from the gold- got stronger the deeper into the mountain he went, guiding him to the treasury.

Bilbo hadn’t known this much gold even existed in the world. Necklaces and cups, suits of armor and rings, endless mountains of coins, all that and more was heaped up in the treasury. Countless gems of every color imaginable twinkled coldly amongst the gold, and Bilbo despaired of ever finding one white gem in all of it.

And sprawled like a fat cat across all of the gold, fast asleep, was the dragon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mwahahaha


	17. Chapter 16

Bard was not, by nature, a very suspicious person. In fact, he loved people. He just loved _his_ people more than others. Therefore, when a group of dwarves plus a halfling arrived, he was perfectly willing to help them - until he learned that they planned on retaking their kingdom. Sometimes he felt like he was the only one with any common sense at all; did the rest of the people not realize the risk of waking the dragon?

Of course, when he voiced his fears, he was shouted down by the Master’s lackeys and forced to quarter the elves whilst the dwarves endangered them all. Bard wasn’t sure what the Master had been thinking by telling the elves that they should room with him. He probably didn’t want the elves to see the riches he kept all to himself, while the people often went to bed hungry.

Still, he wouldn’t refuse to treat the elves as welcome guests just because the Master wished to hide his greed. They were gracious guests too, not showing any of the disgust they were no doubt feeling for his less-than-clean home. The redheaded one was listening to Tilda recount an adventure she’d had with Sigrid the other day, while the blond silently ate his stew.

Besides, maybe now he could get some answers regarding the halfling.

“Excuse me, Master Elf, but may I ask you a question?” Bard asked the blond elf.

“I believe you just did, but you may ask another,” the elf replied while Bard suppressed an eyeroll.

“Thank you. Are all halflings able to heal so well?”

The elves glanced at each other, not obviously, just a slight flick of the eyes, nothing more, and Bard nearly missed it. So. There was something strange about the halfling.

“I’m afraid I don’t quite understand your meaning,” the blond elf said.

“One of the dwarves had a fatal wound, from a Morgul arrow. The halfling healed it while we were in prison with nothing more than his bare hands and a bit of light,” Bard said as he scraped another spoonful of stew from his bowl.

The redhead seemed to pale a little at his words, but she gave no other sign that she had even heard him.

“As far as we know, that is a skill only he possesses,” the blond said.

“Hmm,” Bard said before collecting the empty bowls and bringing them to the kitchen for cleaning.

0o0o0

Bilbo searched for the Arkenstone as quietly as he could so as not to wake the dragon. He winced every time the coins clinked against each other, his breath catching in his throat as he waited, hoping that Smaug would continue sleeping. So far, it seemed to be working, even if he felt like his heart was going to beat itself to death. He could feel a sickly darkness coming from the dragon, like the darkness in Mirkwood or the ring in his pocket.

Suddenly, Smaug shifted in his sleep, disrupting the mountain of gold Bilbo had been searching and sending him tumbling off of it. 

Bilbo tried to direct his roll towards the edges of the treasure heap, and he hid behind a pillar as soon as he slid to a stop. It was better to be safe than roasted alive by a dragon, he figured.

A low rumble echoed throughout the treasury, and Bilbo froze. Smaug was awake.

“Who dares trespass in my kingdom?” Smaug snarled. “I can hear your heartbeat, little thief, like a frightened bird. Come now, don’t be shy. Step out into the light.”

Bilbo swallowed, his mouth drier than a field in the middle of a drought. Then, with the reminders of all the other times he had used little more than his words to save both himself and the dwarves held firmly in his mind, Bilbo took a deep breath and stepped out from behind the pillar.

“There you are thief,” Smaug rumbled, glaring down at Bilbo with his giant golden eyes.

“I am no thief, Smaug the Stupendous, for my purpose was not to steal treasure but to gaze upon your magnificence, to see if you really were as great as the old tales say,” Bilbo announced, lying through his teeth. The lie itched at him, but his unease went away if he thought of it as telling a tale. Bilbo was good at telling tales. “I did not believe them.”

Smaug reared up, lifting his upper body clear of the treasure and flaring his wings. “And do you _now_?”

“Truly, the tales and songs fall utterly short of your enormity, O Smaug the Magnificent,” Bilbo praised.

Smaug crashed down onto the mountain of treasure, scattering coins and gemstones everywhere. “Flattery will not keep you alive little thief. You are familiar with me, but I have never encountered your kind before. Who are you and where do you come from?”

When Smaug had crashed down into the gold, he had shifted the pile again, revealing even more treasure. One of them was a white gem with a bright glow. As soon as it was exposed to the open air, Bilbo had noticed it as almost a singing sound, but not one he could hear with his ears. It resonated in the very heart of him, where his power rested. He knew it in an instant: the Arkenstone.

Not wanting Smaug to realize where his attention had been resting, Bilbo decided to try and riddle his way out. After all, the tales claimed that dragons enjoyed riddles. “I… I come from under the hill.”

“Underhill?”

Bilbo nodded nervously. “And my path has led me under hills and over hills … and through the air!”

Smaug loomed closer, knocking the Arkenstone closer to Bilbo. “Impressive. What else do you claim to be?”

“I am Web-cutter and Riddle-maker,” Bilbo said, feeling himself grow more confident in the possibility of success the closer the Arkenstone got to him. “I am he who walked into the Gardens of Yavanna and then back again in the span of a single day.”

“Now that is interesting,” Smaug rumbled. “And how do your little dwarven friends fit into this? Where are they hiding?”

“D-dwarves?” Bilbo stuttered. His illusion was falling apart. “No, there are no dwarves here.”

“I can smell their stink on you, Riddle-maker. They sent you in to do their dirty work while they skulk about outside!” Smaug accused, stomping his feet angrily and sending gold and gems cascading away from him. The Arkenstone was almost within reach.

“Truly you are mistaken, O Smaug, Chiefest and Greatest of Calamities,” Bilbo said, his attention almost completely drawn to the Arkenstone.

“You have nice manners, for a thief and a _LIAR!_ I know the smell and taste of dwarf, no one better! It is the gold! They are drawn to treasure like flies to dead flesh!” 

Smaug thrashed with the force of his anger, and the Arkenstone fell into Bilbo’s reach. Bilbo dove for it, and the instant his fingers came into contact, his power exploded outward on a wave of glowing white.

When the white faded from his vision, Bilbo had changed into his unicorn form, his clothes in tatters on the gold, although his fur was white instead of the gold he remembered. The Arkenstone was gone, likely absorbed into his power, and Bilbo felt strong enough to take on a hundred dragons.

“A unicorn?” Smaug rumbled, his eyes wide and his scales smoking. “No, that’s impossible.”

Rather than dignify that with a response, Bilbo lowered his head and charged at the dragon, sinking his horn into one of Smaug’s toes. The dragon howled and jerked away, his hand glowing where Bilbo had stabbed him.

With a mighty beat of his wings, Smaug took to the air. “You cannot catch me up here, tiny pest.”

However, Bilbo could feel his power racing through Smaug’s blood like poison, purifying as it went.

“You are dying, O Smaug the Foul,” Bilbo shouted.

“Then I shall take the men of Laketown with me,” Smaug hissed before fleeing out of the mountain and over the Long Lake.

Bilbo uselessly flapped his wings, unable to gain enough momentum to chase the dragon or even get off the ground.

0o0o0

The One Ring rested innocently on the tainted gold, finally free of the font of goodness that had carried it for so long.

Far to the south, deep in the heart of Mordor, an ancient evil began the search for its Ring.


	18. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it's been a while. Sorry 'bout that. Anyways, feedback is always greatly appreciated!

Smaug swooped down from the mountain, fiery anger burning in his belly, ready to be unleashed upon the people of Laketown.

He knew he was dying - he could feel it burning through his veins like poison - and he had decided that killing the people of Laketown would be his great revenge. Smaug didn’t remember unicorns himself, but he’d heard that they felt great pain when others were injured or killed. And what better target than the dimwitted fools who built their homes over water, as if that could somehow stop him.

He would kill them all, then come back for the dwarves.

0o0o0

Bilbo pushed himself as fast as his wings could carry him, chasing after Smaug. He wasn’t sure what he could do, but any help was better than none.

Smaug’s wings were many orders of magnitude larger than his own, though. Bilbo had barely left the mountain by the time the dragon reached Laketown. He could only watch helplessly as Smaug drenched the city in fire.

Then, almost faster than Bilbo could see, an arrow sprang up from Laketown and lodged itself in Smaug’s chest. Unfortunately, the bowman had shot the dragon right above the town, and so when he fell he crashed into numerous buildings.

The muscles in his back and shoulders ached and the chilled air scraped at his nose as Bilbo glided down towards the burning town. He didn’t know what he could possibly do to put out the fire, but maybe he could heal those with burns. He could still feel the power he had absorbed from the Arkenstone in his chest, itching to be used.

Tauriel was there to meet him when Bilbo landed on one of the few places that weren’t burning. The soot and ash that filled the air didn’t seem to have sullied her hair, skin, or clothes at all.

“What can I do?” Bilbo asked.

“Many have already fled for the shores. Some of them are badly burned,” she replied. “Your help would be most appreciated there.”

“Thank you,” Bilbo said before he clumsily launched himself into the air and flew to the shore.

There were people already gathered in small groups and clusters when he landed. Most of them only had small burns and other wounds, but some of them could barely walk or weren’t even conscious. Bilbo focused his efforts on those people first.

However, no matter how many people he healed, the power he had gained from the Arkenstone did not diminish. It was a relentless itch, a demand to be used, except he couldn’t figure out any other way to use it.

Despite that, Bilbo enjoyed healing the people of Laketown. Their injuries were, in part, his fault, so anything he could do to help was a good thing. 

Finally, though, once all of the people were healed, a process that took almost two days, Bilbo knew he needed to leave, to check on the dwarves. He felt a pang of guilt at the thought that the dwarves probably thought that he was dead.

The hole in the mountain that Smaug had created when he fled was much diminished by the time Bilbo arrived at Erebor. He could see several dwarves hard at work, filling in the hole.

“Bilbo!” one of them - he thought it might be Ori - called out. “You’re alive!”

“Good to see you’re alright, Bilbo,” Balin greeted as Bilbo swooped into the mountain.

Bilbo’s momentum forced him into a running landing, one that carried him straight into Kili, who promptly scooped him up into a crushing hug.

“Kili,” Bilbo neighed nervously. “You really don’t need to-”

“We thought you were dead,” Kili interrupted. “We were all very sad, Uncle especially. Stay here while I go get the others.”

Kili carefully set Bilbo down on the ground and ran back into the mountain.

Bilbo ruffled his wings, letting the feathers settle back into place. “It took me a while to heal everyone from Laketown who’d been injured,” Bilbo explained.

Balin shook his head sadly. “A sorry business, that is. I’m glad to see the dragon dead, make no mistake, but I wish we could’ve done it without destroying more peoples’ homes.”

“What do you think they’ll do know?” Ori asked. “Winter will be here soon.”

“I heard some of them say they might settle in Dale,” Bilbo said.

Balin sighed heavily. “I doubt they’ll be able to get the place set up in time for winter.”

“We could bring them in the mountain,” Ori suggested. “It’s not like we don’t have enough space.”

Bilbo thought it was a great idea, although if the way the lines on Balin’s face deepened were any sign, the old dwarf didn’t share the same sentiment.

“It’s a good idea, lad,” Balin began. “But the final decision would have to be Thorin’s, and what with the way he’s been acting… Well, it’s doubtful.”

Bilbo frowned, a feeling- no, a certainty- that something was seriously wrong growing in his mind. “How has Thorin been acting lately?”

“Not like himself,” was all Balin would say.


	19. Chpater 18

There was something wrong with Thorin.

He had always been rather gruff and very stubborn, as long as Bilbo had known him, but he had also been a good leader, charismatic, patient, and kind. Now though, he was short-tempered with everyone and had exacerbated his stubbornness to a previously unknown height. He refused to let anyone stop their searching unless they were needed to shore up the hole Smaug had left.

Worst of all was the intangible darkness that clung to him, seeping out of any bits of gold, jewels, or other treasures Thorin came into contact with and wrapping around him like a shroud.

The tendrils of darkness were draped over the other dwarves too, but only when they were in contact with the treasury. The moment they stopped touching the treasure, the darkness dissipated. This was not the case with Thorin. At least, Bilbo didn’t think it was.

Thorin was avoiding him. Bilbo had only caught a few glimpses of him since he’d returned, enough to observe the unsettling darkness and Thorin’s inexplicable anger with him but not much else.

After a few hours of this treatment, Bilbo had had enough.

A few flaps of his wings took him up to the ceiling of the treasury, where he could observe all that went on in it. He flew a few laps before he spotted Thorin sifting through a pile of sparkling jewels that were practically oozing darkness. Bilbo tucked his wings in and dove, his mane and tail streaming away from the force of the dive. He hurtled downward, urged on by gravity, feeling quite exhilarated. Bilbo made a mental note to try diving again sometime seconds before flaring out his wings and slowing to a gentle glide.

His landing was heralded by the clink of gold on gold, loud enough for Thorin to look up and take notice.

A surly scowl suffused his face when Bilbo trotted over. Thorin took a step back, as if to disappear into the maze of Erebor, but Bilbo was not about to let him get away.

“Don’t you dare, Thorin Oakenshield,” he snapped. “You are going to stop avoiding me now.”

“Or what?” Thorin demanded. “You’ll fly back to Laketown and forget all about us?”

“Forget about- what, no! I was helping the people of Laketown because their home was destroyed by Smaug,” Bilbo explained.

“Oh yes, you would do anything to flaunt the fact that you have powerful magic,” Thorin accused.

Bilbo was taken aback and upset that Thorin thought so little of him. “I wasn’t flaunting anything. It was my fault Smaug left the mountain, so it was my responsibility to do what I could to help.”

“And now they will come here, demanding gold, demanding shelter. Well I will not give it to them! I will not part with a single piece of the treasure of my ancestors!” Thorin roared.

Bilbo backed up a step. “This isn’t you,” he whispered.

“Get out of my sight,” Thorin growled.

Bilbo fled, his resolve shaken.

0o0o0

Dwalin was the first to find Bilbo, hiding away on one of the balconies.

“It’s the search for the Arkenstone,” Dwalin said. “The longer it takes to find it, the worse it gets. You didn’t see it, by any chance, when you snuck in here, did you?”

“I did,” Bilbo said slowly.

“Where?” Dwalin asked frantically.

Bilbo momentarily questioned the wisdom of telling Dwalin the full story, but ultimately decided that someone needed to know, just in case. “It was next to Smaug. He knocked it towards me - by accident, I think - while we were talking. I grabbed it so that I could bring it back if I managed to escape, but it sort of melted in my hands. Then, well, the next thing I knew I was a unicorn.”

Dwalin gave him a flat look. “You melted the Arkenstone.”

“I think ‘absorbed’ would be a more accurate word,” Bilbo said.

“Oh, well, that’s so much better. All of our problems are solved,” Dwalin exclaimed sarcastically.

Bilbo sighed heavily. “If you can get Thorin away from the treasure, I think I might be able to do something about his illness.”

He could feel the power inside of him surge up at that thought, dancing through his veins with a need to be used.

“I’ll do my best,” Dwalin said before he left. “Might need to get Dori.”

Bilbo nodded absently, most of his focus on suppressing the urge to shift from foot to foot, to stamp his feet in a rhythm. His concentration lasted for all of two minutes, one hundred and twenty six seconds to be exact, before he succumbed.

Bilbo tossed his head and fluttered his wings, his feet stamping against the stone balcony. A chilly wind sprang up, tangling in his hair. He wanted to jump off the edge and follow the wind to the end of Middle-Earth, to wander where he pleased, unchecked by wizards or kings or even nasty relatives. 

But Thorin needed him, and so Bilbo stayed, despite his instincts screaming at him to flee.

Dwalin and Dori appeared a few moments later, a half-heartedly struggling Thorin between them.

“I am your king! You cannot do this to me!” Thorin thundered.

“I really hope this works,” Dwalin muttered.

The darkness had sprouted thorns that twisted and dug into Thorin, although his flesh was physically unharmed. Still, Bilbo could tell it would take more than a simple healing to get rid of it now.

Except, now that the darkness was stronger, Bilbo was able to get a better sense of it. It felt a little bit like Smaug, a little bit like whatever had been in the arrow that had wounded Kili, and altogether nasty. Maybe, if Bilbo could just combine his ability to heal with his purifying power, then he would be able to get rid of the darkness. 

Bilbo closed his eyes and concentrated on channeling his power into his horn, blocking out the sounds of Thorin’s protests. Then, without further ado, he lowered his head and charged head first, impaling Thorin in the gut.

Dwalin shouted at him, and Dori tried to pull him away, but Bilbo was immovable.

The power rushed out of him, burning away the darkness that tried to stick to Thorin in a flash of light.

Dwalin and Dori recoiled, their hands covering their eyes.

Unable to see anymore darkness on Thorin, Bilbo backed up, leaving Thorin perfectly whole, not even a rip in his clothing to show where he’d been stabbed.

“Do not do that again,” Thorin wheezed, doubling over and clutching at his stomach.

“Fine. Next time you get infected by something evil I’ll just leave you to die,” Bilbo said as he trotted over to the other two dwarves and healed the damage he’d done to their eyes.

“Why do you keep saving me?” Thorin asked, sinking down against a nearby wall.

“Well, I had help. Besides,” Bilbo sniffed as he sat down next to Thorin. “I’m fairly certain it’s in my contract.”

Thorin chuckled.

“Mahal’s beard, would you two stop flirting?” Dwalin groaned.

Whatever Thorin or Bilbo were going to say in response was discarded when Fili burst out onto the balcony.

“Uncle, there’s an army at the gate!” he yelled.


	20. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is officially my longest fic yet!

Bard the Dragonslayer was the only one of the army of elves and men who had approached the mountain. There were dark circles under his eyes, likely from doing all he could to help his people, and his hair was greasy and covered in ash. His clothes were likewise coated with ash, as well as numerous tiny burns. There were no burns on his skin, but that was only because Bilbo had healed him earlier. All in all, Bard looked like he needed a good night’s sleep and a bath, but instead he was here, asking for aid on behalf of his people.

Behind him, Bilbo could see the gleaming figure of Thranduil atop his elk, along with the distinctive gray hat and staff of Gandalf.

“Hail, Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain,” Bard shouted up from his horse to where Thorin stood against the battlements, Bilbo and the rest of the Company behind him.

“Why have you come before me?” Thorin shouted back. It was just a formality - everyone knew why Bard was there, but it was an acknowledgement, meaning that Thorin would listen to Bard and consider his request.

“I seek aid for my people, who have lost their homes to dragon fire. I seek the gold plundered from Dale that will be used to rebuild. And I seek an alliance with the dwarves of Erebor on behalf of the people of Esgaroth, so that we might live in peace with our neighbors,” Bard declared.

Thorin stepped back from the wall and turned to face the Company.

“I am fully prepared to give Bard his first and third demands,” Thorin said. “But the second…”

“Aye,” Balin agreed, nodding his head slowly. “The gold has already been divided up among the fourteen of us by our contracts.”

“You could give him my share,” Bilbo suggested.

All of the dwarves turned to stare at him as if he had sprouted a second head. They didn’t bat an eyelash when he turned into a creature of legend but were shocked at the suggestion of giving up his share of the treasure. Really.

“All of it?” Gloin asked faintly. “You’d just give it all away?”

Bilbo shrugged as best as he was able in his current form. “I could never find a use for that much gold, and besides I have no need for it anyways. Let it go to those who do.”

Thorin reached over and rested his hand on Bilbo’s neck, just behind his ears. “What did we ever do to deserve you, Mister Baggins?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Bilbo noticed Dwalin roll his eyes while Fili and Kili bumped knuckles.

Thorin released Bilbo and stepped back to lean over the battlements. “Bring an impartial witness, and we shall formalize our alliance, Lord of Dale.”

Bard closed his eyes for a moment, slumping with relief in his saddle, before he straightened again and shouted back “You have my thanks, King Under the Mountain.”

Without further delay, Bard turned and rode back to where the humans were camped. Whatever he told them upon his arrival resulted in a mighty cheer.

A raven landed on the battlements next to Thorin while they were watching the humans, sticking out its leg to display the scroll tied to it. A smile broke out on Thorin’s face for one stunning moment when he read the contents of the letter before he passed it to Balin.

“Come,” he said as he headed back into the mountain. “Let us arrange our first alliance as dwarves of Erebor!”

The Company grinned and slapped each other on the backs, even Bilbo, who staggered for a second under the force of the blow, before following their King back into the mountain.

Bilbo was the last to go, staring wistfully at the sky while the power inside of him urged him to take flight and be free. He only considered it for a heartbeat before he remembered what Thorin’s smile had looked like, the way if had lit up his whole being with a fierce joy. Bilbo wanted to see Thorin smile again more than he wanted to fly away.

Also, his heart felt a little funny. He didn’t want to risk it.

Bilbo ran back inside the mountain, following his dwarven friends.

0o0o0

Bard was the first one through the door the dwarves had fashioned, followed closely by Gandalf, his impartial witness. Bilbo was to be Thorin’s witness, as he was not a dwarf and so could not be ordered to sign it by Thorin, although Bilbo didn’t delude himself into thinking he was impartial.

Indignant shouting broke out among the dwarves when Thranduil appeared behind Gandalf. The elvenking ignored them as he stalked over towards Bilbo.

“Where is my son?” he hissed, his eyes practically aflame with the force of his anger.

“The last I saw either Captain Tauriel or Prince Legolas was on the shores of the lake after the people of Laketown were evacuated,” Bilbo said truthfully.

Thranduil’s eyes narrowed, then, without another word, he spun on his heel and swept back out of the mountain.

Bilbo watched him go for a moment before he became aware of a commotion going on behind him.

“Thorin Oakenshield, what have you done with my burglar?” Gandalf asked threateningly, echoes of thunder rolling beneath his words.

Bilbo hurriedly trotted over, hoping to defuse the situation before it got any worse. “Honestly, Gandalf, after all the trouble you went through to drag me on this ridiculous adventure, and you don’t even recognize me?”

Gandalf froze, staring at Bilbo. “Bilbo Baggins, is that really you? How extraordinary.”

“Well, I don’t see who else I could be, besides myself,” Bilbo said.

That made Gandalf laugh. “Even after all these years, I still get caught off guard sometimes, my dear Bilbo.”

“That’s all well and good, but could we perhaps work on drawing up the conditions of our alliance now?” Bard asked impatiently.

“Oh, yes. We shall have to be swift though. An army of orcs is approaching,” Gandalf warned.

Thorin cursed. “They believe they can steal our land, our gold.”

“We do have Dain’s reinforcements on their way, though,” Balin pointed out.

Thorin sighed heavily. “Very well. Let us negotiate. Dwalin and Kili, while we’re busy, you organize the refugees and get them to safety in the mountain.”

“Thank you,” Bard said.

Dwalin and Kili left, and the negotiations began. 


	21. Chapter 20

Tauriel and Legolas rode into the elven encampment as if there was an army at their heels. It hadn’t reached that point yet - the second orc army was several hours if not days away still.

There was a contingent of guards awaiting them. They all bowed to Legolas before falling into step around them. Tauriel was confused by the fact that none of them acknowledged her presence. She was a Captain and several of these elves were her friends, yet none of them would meet her gaze.

She began to have a very bad feeling. Maybe chasing after the orcs hadn’t been the right thing to do.

But, no, if they hadn’t gone, then there would have been no one to bring warning of the second army, and the dwarves would have been killed. Tauriel wouldn’t have been able to live with herself if that had happened.

King Thranduil was waiting for them in the largest of the tents, his back to the entrance.

“Well, what do you have to say for yourselves?” he asked icily.

“We decided to track down the orcs to determine where they’d come from,” Legolas explained.

“And you did not think to leave word of where you’d gone, did not think that I would like to know your location?” King Thranduil demanded.

“My King, the orcs attacked the people of Laketown when they were vulnerable, after the unicorn had left. That they did not try to kill everyone seemed suspicious,” Tauriel said.

“I do not care about the actions of orcs or men,” the King sneered, turning to face them.

“Then they will all die! Do you truly feel no sympathy for the dwarves at all?” Tauriel all but yelled.

The King’s face froze into a mask of disdain. “They are mortal, death is their ultimate fate.”

“That only means their time is all the more precious,” she argued.

King Thranduil rolled his eyes. “Let the dwarves fight for their own land. The dwarven army arrived two days ago, while you were gone.”

“And what of the unicorn?” Legolas asked. “He is going to fight with the dwarves, there is no doubt of that. Will you truly risk the healing of the Greenwood because you will not fight with dwarves and men?”

The King narrowed his eyes, and, for a long moment, no one said anything. If Tauriel had been anything but an elf, she would have started fidgeting.

Finally, the King said. “Tauriel, you are dismissed,” and she was able to flee, leaving Legolas behind to argue with his father.

Rather than report to the quartermaster to receive armor and supplies, Tauriel slipped out of the camp. She ducked past the sentinels with ease; there was a reason she was a Captain despite her young age. No one noticed her flight to the mountain, but it wouldn’t be long before they realized she was missing.

It didn’t matter. Tauriel would warn the dwarves of the second orc army, with or without approval from the King. If she was exiled for her crime, then so be it.

0o0o0

Gurg had been accepted back into Azog’s confidences with minimal punishment for her common sense. Well, Azog had called it cowardice, but he had been the fool who messed with a hobbit _and_ a wizard. Still, he _was_ still the leader of their army, and, really, a finger or two was a small price to pay to fight in a great battle, to prove her worth as an orc once and for all.

Azog had assigned her to be one of the people in his own personal guard, to help him trap the filthy dwarves royalty, especially Oakenshield, Azog’s nemesis. It was a high honor, to be sure, even if Gurg wished she could be down with the rest of the army, slaughtering the dwarves, men, and elves. 

The waiting was the worst part of the whole ordeal. Gurg couldn’t wait for the dwarves to try and kill them.

“The dwarves are coming!” one of the scouts said. “I saw ‘em climbing up on goats. Looked mighty tasty.”

Gurg entertained fantasies of capturing the goats and roasting them over a fire, a nice big fire that made the meat taste a little smoky, while she ducked into position. There was no way of knowing which of the dwarves would walk into the tower trap, so Azog had tucked himself out of the way, close enough leap into the fray if Oakenshield showed his face but far enough that he could taunt the dwarf into recklessness.

A blond dwarf walked past her hiding place, so Gurg leapt out at him, wrapping one arm around his chest to trap his arms while the other held a sword to his throat.

“Move and I’ll gut you,” Gurg hissed. The dwarf started squirming, trying to break free, but Gurg hadn’t been assigned to Azog’s personal guard at random. She was much stronger than the average orc, so he wasn’t able to escape no matter how much he struggled.

She managed to carry him over to Azog, who seemed pleased by her find. He snatched the blond dwarf from her grip, his flesh hand wrapped around his throat, and dragged him out onto one of the tower ledges.

“This one dies first. Then the brother. Then you, Oakenshield. You will die last,” Azog announced before he stabbed the dwarf and dropped him.

The ensuing fight was enough to make Gurg’s blood sing. Azog left to engage Oakenshield, which she personally didn’t think was a very sensible move, but she said nothing to him.

A white light suddenly spread across the battlefield. It seemed to originate from some point in the sky, but Gurg couldn’t look at it without feeling like her eyes were burning out of her skull. Every orc it touched began to scream before they collapsed as if they had been bludgeoned over the head.

Gurg tried to avoid it, but she wasn’t fast enough. The touch of the light seared her as if it was fire. She crumpled to the ground in agony when it slipped beneath her skin, scorching her to her very marrow.

She was grateful when she fell unconscious.

**Author's Note:**

> I post daily ficlets on [tumblr](http://thefreakwiththewings.tumblr.com/), one from each of my many WIPs per day, including this fic.


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